Free Classic Love: 7 Vintage Romances by Dorothy Fletcher

a
basement
flat?”
    “No, nothing like that. You don’t think I’d consider anything like that? Do you want to see it? I’ll be glad to go on over with you. If you decide on it you can return my deposit to me. That is if you’re so inclined. I know I have no right to ask for it.”
    “Of course we’d return it.”
    “Then let’s get a move on, before something goes wrong on that end.”
    “I appreciate it, Mr. Allerton.”
    “Not a bit. If you’re satisfied with it I won’t be the villain in the piece. I’m not partial to being a heavy. I’ll just lock up here and we’ll be there in a jiffy.”
    They flagged down a cab on Third, rode up to Eighty-first, where Allerton told the driver they’d get off. “It’s just up the block,” he told the others. “Here, let me get that.”
    “You’re not paying for our cab,” she said, surveying the environs, which of course were familiar to an old New Yorker. “I know this street, it’s a good one. Trees, Rodney. I suppose it’s that rickety building with the peeling stucco? Still, it doesn’t look too run down.”
    “No, it’s the one with the diamond-paned window, the one with the bay.”
    “Oh, I’ve passed it before, any number of times. I always thought it was very sweet, sort of quaint. Rodney, it looks nice, doesn’t it?”
    “Very nice indeed,” he said judiciously. “Rather like a small cottage. Mullioned windows. I shall feel I’m in the country.”
    “It’s small inside, but very well laid out, very compact and serviceable. As I said, I was all ready to settle in there myself.”
    Rodney had gone to look in the bay window, leaning forward to peer inside. Of course there were drawbacks immediately apparent, Christine was thinking. Where would he put an air conditioner? Naturally the thought wouldn’t have entered his head. You couldn’t put one in the bay unless you wanted to spoil its appearance, and they were the only front windows, so where would he put a unit? And there would certainly be easy access for a burglar. A ground-floor dwelling, it would be a piece of cake for someone to jimmy open a window and go right in.
    Which was, when it came right down to it, something a burglar wouldn’t bother attempting, in plain sight. A burglar would jimmy open the door to the apartment rather than risk being spotted outside.
    Well. Lots of people lived with fire escapes, what easier entry was there than a fire escape?
    It did seem a creditable building, on a pleasant street, and if the plumbing left something to be desired,
tant pis
. Rodney would just have to learn to live with it. It would be a blessing if this were the last one. She was suddenly very, very weary of looking at apartments. “Could you see anything inside?” she asked Rodney when he came back.
    “It looks good,” he said, sweeping back his hair. “There appears to be some built-in shelving. It doesn’t seem dark, either.”
    A few minutes later they were inside the building, after being let in by a Mr. Scanlan, who unlocked the apartment door for them and who complained that he was being kept busy by people responding to the ad. “I can’t hold it any longer,” he said severely. “Deposit or no deposit.”
    “I can understand that,” Allerton agreed. “Just give us a few minutes. You’ll have your answer right away. Okay?”
    “Okay,” he said, and pushed open the door so they could go inside. Ten minutes later Rodney was writing out his check, and they had the key. Mr. Scanlan, relieved of his responsibilities, went his own way and they surveyed the rooms again. Rodney was overwhelmed by his find. He kept returning to the bay, where there was a window seat, presently covered in a faded chintz, but even though it would need recovering the overall effect was very pretty. It would provide extra seating, he informed them unnecessarily, and you could sit there reading a book.
    And the light. Such a soft light, quite mellow and soft, like amber. Plus the built-in